


Gray?!

by Pr1nceMax



Series: Trolls/Broppy [1]
Category: Trolls (2016)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen, I had a crazy idea, M/M, Multi, Other, This is not what i originally planned, and here we are, and made a new tumblr, but its what happening nowww, dear god its like midnight help me, haha - Freeform, multi-chapter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-17
Updated: 2018-02-03
Packaged: 2019-03-06 00:20:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13399416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pr1nceMax/pseuds/Pr1nceMax
Summary: Poppy and Branch didn't understandThis had never happened beforeI mean--of course, it had happened. Trolls turned gray sometimes (Branch more often than most).But a troll was never BORN gray!Until now, anyhow.





	1. Prolouge

“ _ I’m going down into the bunker, Angel! And I’ll be sippin’ on coffee in the morning, Baby _ !” Branch sings into an air-microphone, his typical morning routine.

“Good morning, Branchie!” She grins, waiting at the bottom of the elevator for him. Once upon a time, her ability to never run out of energy surprised him. Now? Well, it was just normal. She holds out a cup full of coffee.

“Poppy.” Branch sighs, carrying out the last syllable of her name. “You didn’t sleep on it.” He observes, noticing the slight circles under her eyes and the lack of warmth in their bed.

“Not a wink!” She chimes, rocking on her heels, as he sips the hot drink. 

“And let me guess, you already have another crazy plan.” His eyes glance at her from over the top of his cup.

“And yes, I do.” Poppy grins, grabbing his arm and walking to the kitchen table with him. He smiles gently at her, a stack of pancakes awaiting him.

“So, what’s this plan-hm?” He asks, taking a bite of the food laid out before them.

“We’re throwing them a surprise baby shower!” Poppy grins, “But like--” She thinks for a second, before smiling sheepishly. “Branch style?”

Branch sets down his coffee cup as he laughs, and oh Hair, did Poppy love that sound!

“Branch style huh? That’s what we’re calling it now?” He asks, leaning on the table, as she reaches across and takes his hand in hers. 

“I mean it does make sense.” Poppy smiles, lacing their fingers. “Don’tcha think?” 

The two sat there: smiling, eating breakfast, chatting, and planning for King Gristle and Queen Bridget’s baby shower. She was quite a ways along, and it seemed like every month was passing faster and better than anyone could hope. 

It was four years after the events that lead to the Trollstice Treaty and it had been three years since Poppy decided to move into the bunker with Branch. This decision had, of course, surprised him. Branch was much better with socialization now, although he still felt awkward and was still prone to panic attacks in the middle of a large crowd. He was sure Poppy would have asked him to move into the large tree with her, into her pod, or into a new one: but she hadn’t. Poppy knew that living in a pod would make him uncomfortable, and possibly upset. Plus there was always the bonus of the extra space in the bunker. Most of the traps had been removed by this point, as well as most of the security measures (but that damn mat was still there so Poppy wouldn’t get lost.)

“Hey, Branch?” There had been a lull in conversation but this quiet statement caused him to look up, a bit worried. 

“Yeah?” He raises an eyebrow, holding his mug in his left hand, a fork in his other.

“Ever think we’ll have kids?”

_ CRASH _

“Shit!” 

“Branch!” Poppy jumped up and instantly began helping him clean up the broken mug. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable!” 

“No, no, no.” Branch stammered as he grabs her hands. The spilled coffee now sitting in a small, steaming puddle between them. “Poppy, you just took me off guard! It’s-I-I’m-it’s-” He takes a deep breath, ignoring the indigo spreading across his face. His deep blue eyes looking into her pink. “I love you. I am honored you’d even consider me for that.”

Poppy laughs softly and lifts his hands to kiss his knuckles. “Branch, I’ve told you time and time again that I want you to be my King.” She looks at him through her bangs. “And everything that title entails.” Another lull in conversation as they look into each other’s eyes.

“We should probably clean this up.” Branch snickers after a few minutes, as Poppy nods. Within minutes the mess is gone, and so is breakfast.

“I’m going to go visit Satin and Chenille and see if they’ll make some baby outfits for the little one!” Poppy grins, as Branch waves her off. 

“Tell me about it at lunch, still on for that picnic?” he asks, getting a thumbs-up in response as she heads back into the village.

Branch sighs into the quietness that was his home. Their home.

“I love not being alone.” He whispers to the emptiness that didn’t quite feel so empty.

* * *

 

“Branch!” Poppy yells, running down the hallway. “Branch, Branch, Branch!” Poppy ran straight into his chest, “Branch!” He catches her by her elbows, holding her up.

“Poppy? What is it? Are you hurt? Did something happen?” It was always like him to fret, even when she was clearly grinning.

“No, no! I’m okay!” Poppy giggles, throwing her arms around his neck-peppering his cheek with some kisses.

“Poppy--” Branch hums, “What’s gotten into you?” He asks, moving his hands to her waist. Pink eyes sparkle with hope, joy, delight, and love.

“You’ll never believe it.” Poppy giggles, leaning into him as their hair twines together. 

“Just tell me, pops.” He gives her his signature smirk as they stand forehead against forehead.

“We can place a pod.” 

“But to do that you'd have to be--”

A beat of Silence.

Another.

Again.

_ Ding _ .

“Poppy!” He exclaims, lifting her off the ground and spinning her, the two bursting into a fit of laughter and excitement. 

* * *

This was...strange to say the least. When a pod was placed, it shinned with its true colors, its beautiful colors. Poppy’s had been a beautiful pink gradient, and Branch’s had been a blue-to-green gradient. They placed their child’s pod on a branch about two weeks ago, its colors should have been shining through on the fourth day:

So,  _ why  _ was it  **gray** ?!

“Branch, you can’t seriously be at this still” Poppy exasperated, crouching down in front of him. She moved the book, ‘ _ Pods, Pods, Pods’ _ , and looked into his exhausted eyes.

“I’m just--” He hesitates, “worried.” He lets go of the book as she moves it, proceeding to wring his hands together. “I mean, this could be my fau-”

“Shut up,” Poppy says, covering his mouth. “Don’t you dare blame yourself for this! For all we know, they might look like Guy Diamond!” She nods, trying to convince herself as well. “He’s gray, with white hair. That would make sense--”

“How Poppy?” He whispers. “He’s not gray, he’s made of glitter. Literally.” He deadpans. 

“I know, I know.” She sighs and kisses his nose. “But let’s not worry too much, okay? We’re probably just freaking out over nothing!” 

* * *

 

It was not 'nothing'.

As the pod had begun to open, the two parents stood there eager. As well as the rest of the Troll Village. It was freezing, the fact that winter came a month early was worrying. The fact that the pod was opening on the day after the first snowfall was worrying.

Branch had an arm over Poppy’s shoulders, and she clutched his vest.  _ Nothing. It was nothing.  _ They both ran this thought on repeat,  _ They will be fine. Everything will be fine. _

Until a tiny troll was revealed and---

_ Oh no _ .

Poppy instantly scooped the child into her arms, and the two cradled them.

Their little girl, her black hair sticking whichever way much like her father’s hair did each morning. A little gray body that curled into itself, trying to shrink away from the sudden attention, causing Branch to almost sob. And her eyes. Oh hair, her eyes. A pale blue, so pale and almost lifeless that Poppy almost choked when she saw them. 

* * *

 

“After much thinking,” Poppy announces, the baby swaddled in her arms, wrapped in a blanket Branch had knitted. “We decided to name her--”

“Snow Cloud.” Branch followed with the small troll clutching to one of his fingers. 

The village cheered, not knowing that the tiny baby was gray. So gray that she looked worse than Branch ever had, and his heart lurched when he looked at her.

This was his child.

This was their child.

What had he done wrong?

Oh hair, what had gone wrong?


	2. Playdate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A playdate between the princess of the Trolls and the princess of the Bergens.
> 
> But can Queen Poppy keep her promise of No glitter, No dancing, and oh hair--No singing!?

“Snow!” Branch calls, looking around. “Poppy? Where did Snow go? She and Tori  _ are _ having their playdate today--right?”

Poppy smiles as she stands from the table. “They were supposed to be, but if we don’t find Snow soon, I guess we’ll just have to tell Tori that she has to play all by herself.” Poppy lamented, but her eyes shined with mischief. Ah, yes. The old guilt-tripping. That certainly seemed to work the most on their daughter.

“I’m right here.” The small, subdued, melancholy voice answered from underneath the tablecloth. The fabric ruffles, the black strands of hair peeking out as she crawls out from her hiding spot. “Do I have to go?” she says, now on her knees. Poppy and Branch both shared a look. It had been eight years since the small girl had crawled out of her gray pod, with a gray complexion. And it hadn’t changed once. She was a mystery to all of Troll-kind, nothing they did helped her. She stayed sad, and gray, no matter what.

Branch was the first to move; bending down to his own knees in front of her. He held out his hands, and her smaller ones ended up in them without hesitation. “Snow, you know you do.” He says gently, smiling at her. Her sad ice blue eyes cut into his with a desperation he understood well. “Hey, we promise. No glitter, No singing, No Dancing. Just you and Tori playing.” He understood her fears and worry more so than any other troll in the world. But that didn’t mean it didn’t upset him as well.

“Is that a Queenie Promise?” Snow asks, looking away from her father and to her mother. Poppy sighs, and places a hand over her heart, and holding up her other hand.

“I, Queen Poppy, declare and promise, this is to a playdate with no glitter, no singing, and certainly no dancing.” She smiles at Snow, “No matter how hard it is for me to do.” Snow gives her a grateful look, and nods.

“Okay.” Snow Cloud stands and runs her fingers through her hair. Taking a deep breath, and nods. She smoothes out her soft lilac dress, and grabs her own flower crown; one made for a princess. “Okay.” She repeats. “I’m ready.”

 

They stood in the middle of Troll village, waiting for the caterbus. The summer air was warm and delightful--but Snow just felt suffocated. Every time someone stopped to talk to them, she jumped behind her father or mother and hid. 

“Well, hey there.” A friendly voice says, bending down to her level. 

After a few moments of stuttering, she finally squeaks out: “Hi Uncle Biggie.”

He chuckles, and holds out a small worm; “Would you like to say hi to Mr. Dinkles Jr?” Snow’s eyes light up and she slowly takes the worm into her arms.

She begins cooing and cuddling the little guy.

“Mew!” He chimes, much higher than his father had, causing Snow to giggle softly.

Biggie stands again and looks to Branch and Poppy. “Good morning, you two!” He chimes. Branch’s eyes were focused on his daughter but Poppy quickly hugged him.

“Mornin’ Biggie!” She chimes in perfect time with her bracelet lighting up, letting go of him she continues. “We’re off to Snow’s playdate with Tori!”

“Oh!” He grins, “Is that so? Well, won’t that be fun--huh Snow?” He asks, the small girl now sitting on the ground with the inchworm happily snuggled against her. She does not respond. “Well, while you’re there be sure to ask Bridget if she still wants me to capture Tori’s ninth birthday pictures!”

“Will do!” Poppy almost sings, before clearing her throat. “Have a great day Biggie!” She beams as the caterbus comes. He bends down and coaxes the worm from the young troll’s hands. 

“You too!” He chimes back as him and Mr. Dinkles Jr left. Snow seems to instantly fall back into hiding, clinging to her father’s vest. Branch smirks a bit. 

“Hey, Poppy?” He leans towards her and whispers in her ear. She grins and nods eagerly. 

“Perfect!” 

“What are you two planning?” Snow asks, peeking out from her hiding spot. 

“Oh, nothing.” Poppy grins, “Now, com’n. Before we’re late!” She urges them onto the caterbus. 

“Poppy!” Finger guns.

“Cloud guy!” More finger guns.

“Can we just sit?” Snow interrupts the little exchange, knowing a song might burst out at any moment. Branch snickers, and picks her up. Placing the small troll on his lap, he leans into the seat. “Daddy?” She asks suddenly, looking at him seriously. “You meant it with the no singing, right?”

“Of course.” He kisses her forehead. “No singing what so ev-”

“ _ When you feel like you’re ready to go.”  _ Oh no, **Poppy**. 

Branch glances down at his daughter, who seems to be as okay as she can be with the song. 

_ “Somewhere you’ve never been-”  _ Poppy sings gently, not moving out of her seat. Well, there was only so much Snow could ask of her mother. 

_ “Make a wish and the dream in you grows.”  _ Branch’s voice blends into Poppy’s, soft and gentle as her mother’s. Snow looks between the two. This was the first song she ever heard (besides True Colors of course), and it was still her favorite.

_ “Shining as bright as Day, Carrying you far away.”  _ Poppy stands and sits beside Branch, both of them gently singing to their daughter.

_“The Story begins with the light in your heart”_ A finger brushes her nose, and a different hand combs her bangs from her eyes. _“A fantasy, A dream, and a Spark. Once you believe you are ready to shine!”_

_ “The princess inside you will show.” _

_ “You are the glow.”  _ Poppy’s voice becomes even quieter, and she kisses Snow’s forehead.

_ “You are the glow.” _ Branch finishes, kissing her cheek. The two parents smile down at their gray daughter. 

The guilt had faded from Branch as he began to realize that the small princess was still able to smile, laugh, and enjoy life. Of course, she wasn’t very fond of glitter, or large parties. Nor did she enjoy extravagant dance parties, or raves, or well...Most of the things Trolls loved. Snow was her own little troll, and she was much more content with small little gatherings. 

She had asked for a garden party when she was five; only asking the Snack Pack, and her family to join in. They had planted many little flowers in her small garden and then had a small tea party. The music was soft and almost classical sounding. It was small, quiet, but nice. Branch had honestly enjoyed it, but he could tell Poppy was a little on edge the whole time. 

Yet, their little princess was just as content as every other troll. Branch had felt much better after she had woken up one night with a nightmare. She clung to him and had fallen asleep in his arms: a small smile on her lips. Sure, Snow Cloud was shy, quiet, afraid, and gray--but she was also comforting, content, giggly, and honest. Snow was always herself and even if she was gray, she seemed to find her way through life as Branch had.

Even if it hurt him when he found her crying in her bed at night. Nights that Poppy was never allowed to know about. 

Even if it hurt him when he saw her eyes glaze over and stare into the distance. A look that Poppy had never seen. 

Even if it hurt him when Snow slammed her door and yelled that she didn’t want to be around anyone ever again. Yells that Poppy hadn’t witnessed. 

Even if it broke his heart the time he found his daughter clutching her doll, asking it why she had been born. A time that Poppy had never heard of.

Even if it hurt him when he looked at Poppy and knew that she would never understand what their daughter was going through.

But yes, his guilt was gone...for the most part.

“And here we are!” Cloud guy chimed, “Bergen castle!”

“Thanks,” Branch mumbled, lifting Snow onto his shoulders. She was small, and Bergens were big. Trolls were quick, but Bergens were clumsy. He was cautious, and Snow was scared.

“Poppy!”

“Bridget!” The two friends ran up to each other, and the bigger one lifted the other up into the air. Branch walked right past them and their ridiculous hello and nodded to Gristle.

“‘Sup?” Gristle motioning towards them with his chin.

“Eh.” Branch shrugs in response, as Snow clung to his hair and hid behind it. She had no reason to fear the Bergens. Never did, never has, never will.

But she feared just about everything. 

“ _Prim and Proper!_ ” The two queens giggled from behind Branch.

“Snow,” Branch whispered. “Wanna go find Tori?” He asks, and he feels her nod into his hair. “Hey, Gristle? Is Tori in the playroom?”

“Yup! All ready for a tea party I believe.” He smiles gently. Branch smiles back and begins to head off as Poppy and Bridget giggle, gossip, and jabber. Snow peaks out from the cobalt blue strands of hair.

“He said _Tea_ Party, right?” Snow asks, getting a bit excited. 

“Yup, and I bet Tori has her new dollhouse all set up!” He smirks, “I bet she’ll even let you explore it if you ask nicely.” As soon as they push into the large room, they hear a small giggle.

“Snowflake!” A voice chimes, as the small Bergen bends down and holds out her hands. Snow hops off her dad’s shoulders and jumps into Tori’s hands.

“Victory!” She grins back, hugging the girl’s thumb. “I heard we’re having a tea party?” She asks, tilting her head. 

“Yup!” Tori chimes back as Branch leans against the wall. Watching the two begin to play with their empty cups, both pretending to be in a regal meeting of some sort.

“No, we simply must make candy cane roads!” Tori nods, mimicking Bridget’s voice the best she could.

“No, No, Queen Bridget, I believe we must have sugar and glitter roads.” Snow mimics her mom as best she can (even if she’s nowhere near energetic enough).

“Oh! Queen Poppy! I insist! Candy Canes would be best!” Tori shakes her head as the two burst into a fit of laughter.

Branch looks at his daughter’s smiling face, small tears at the corners of her eyes.

Yes, this is what happiness was…

This was how he felt everyday…

Yet his daughter was still…

**_Gray._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: The Glow by Shannon Saunders
> 
> It seemed to fit the personalities of this little family! And let me just say, little Snow cloud is my favorite thing to exist!  
> And introducing the wonderful and sweet Princess Victoria of Bergen Town!
> 
> I made a drawing of an older Snow Cloud if anyone wants to see:  
> https://perpetuallygray.tumblr.com/post/169826377668/i-drew-an-older-snow-cloud-from-my-fan-fic-because


	3. H.P.D.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Book, a Doll, a Branch.
> 
> Snow wakes up in the middle of the night with a stomach ache
> 
> And things are not looking up after a visit to Dr. Plum

“Mommy?” Little Snow asks, peeking into the bedroom of her parents.

“Yes?” Poppy asks, almost instantly standing. She gestures for her husband to go back to sleep, and he lays back down. But his eyes stay open.

“My stomach hurts,” Snow wraps her arms around her middle as if it would help the pain go away. Poppy picks the small one up, and places the back of her hand on Snow’s forehead. 

“No fever.” She mutters, “I know you ate a good meal,” Poppy mutters, walking towards the kitchen. “How bad is it on a scale of one to ten?” Poppy asks, setting her daughter on the counter. “Ten being a monster is eating you, and one being a tickle attack.”

“Nine.” Snow whimpers, clutching her middle. Small tears forming in the corners of her eyes, as she watches her mother dig through the kitchen.

“There is no one better prepared than your daddy,” She nods, “So, we should have something to fix you right up,” Poppy kisses Snow’s head as she passes by her. Poppy digs through the cabinets and continues asking questions. Until she finally looks at Snow, a bit stumped.

“So, you aren’t hungry.”

“Nuh-uh.”

“You don’t feel sick?”

“No.”

“But you hurt?”

“Uh-huh.” Snow nods, small beads rolling down her face at this point. Poppy lifts Snow up and places her on her shoulders. 

“Okay, we’re going to Doctor Plum,” She smiles up at Snow. “Hold on tight, okay?” Poppy was worried. More worried than she had ever been in her life (except for the whole  _ gray _ thing). 

* * *

 

“Well?” Poppy asks as Dr. Plum looks over her daughter. “You’ve been pressing on her stomach for ten minutes!”

“Relax, Your Majesty.” Dr. Plum smiles, shaking her head. “There is nothing wrong.” 

“Nothing wrong?!” Poppy almost screams, walking over and clutching her daughter. “Snow woke up at midnight, clutching her stomach and crying! How is there nothing wrong?”

“It’s a psychological thing.” Dr. Plum explains, keeping her calm and professional exterior. “Snow?” Dr. Plum smiles down at the little troll. “How would you like to go play with my little guga?” Snow lights up and practically runs out into the waiting room to play with the beetle. Dr. Plum smiles apologetically at Poppy.

“I believe your daughter is forcing herself to feel pain when there is none.” She says, leaning against her counter. “I believe this may have something to do with her current relationships.”

“What do you mean?” Poppy asks, wringing her hands together. Hair, why did she insist that Branch stay home? He would be so much better in this situation!

“Is she closer to you or her father?” Dr. Plum raises an eyebrow.

“It’s pretty evenly split, I think.” Poppy thinks, “Although, I do spend more time with her during the day--Branch spends more time with her at night.”

“Does she have any close friends?”

“She’s close with Tori, I think.” Poppy chews the inside of her cheek. “Beyond that, she doesn’t really interact with other children much. The last time we tried to introduce her to Suki and Chenille’s twins; Electro and Chiffon.” Poppy freezes, thinking that event over. “Well, it didn’t go too well.”

“What happened?”

“Chiffon tried to braid Snow’s hair, and Electro tried to play loud club music--” Poppy giggles at the thought. “But-uh.” She hesitates, using the back of her hand to move the hair from her face. “Snow punched chiffon and broke his nose, and she yanked Electro’s hair and actually ripped some from her head.” She covers her mouth as she talks. 

“Have you tried to introduce her to any other children?” Dr. Plum scribbles some words down on a clipboard.

“Well, after that G.D. thought Brook would be a better fit for Snow.” Poppy thinks, twisting a single strand of her hair around her finger. “But she didn’t say a single word the entire time we were there. G.D. and I thought it might have been because we didn’t leave them alone--so we let them have a sleepover and--” Poppy chews her cheek again. “G.D. brought Snow home an hour after I left, she was sobbing and shaking.”

“She had trouble being left alone? Away from you and Branch?”

“Yes.” Poppy nods, leaning against the counter. “Did we do something wrong?” Her lip quivers as she thinks back on their last eight years. “Did  _ I _ do something wrong?”

“No,” Dr. Plum answers shortly. “Not exactly. But I believe your daughter has a Histrionic Personality disorder.” She says, checking something off her list.

“A what?”

“A Histrionic Personality Disorder. In other words,” Dr. Plum sighs, looking Poppy in the eye. “She has an attention-seeking personality, has emotional overreactions, and she tends to over-dramatize things that she shouldn’t.” Dr. Plum goes over to one of her cupboards and pulls out a book, handing it to Poppy. “Everything you need to know is in there. But I do believe you and Branch need to pull back from your daughter a bit more. She is  _ eight _ , not  _ three _ .” 

Poppy looks at the book in her hands and back to the Doctor. She nods, but something felt wrong. She felt relieved that she had answers, yes. She felt relieved that she could do something now, yes. But--As she walked out into the waiting room and picked up her daughter-the strange feeling didn’t leave her stomach.

A feeling that resembled that of the lull of a hurricane. A feeling that resembled exactly what she felt when she heard the words: “ _ I had what I can only describe as a spiritual awakening.” _

* * *

 

Branch read the whole book twice. Three times. Four. Five?

Okay, he lost count. 

But it didn’t add up. This didn’t explain half the things he had seen, but Poppy was almost fully convinced that  _ this  _ was what was  _ wrong _ . Yeah, being gray was wrong. 

Wanting attention was suddenly wrong.

Being different was wrong.

Branch rolls his eyes and takes a deep breath. Setting the book down.

_ Since when did being a Troll feel wrong? _

He stopped by the large bedroom of his daughter, looking at the empty room. He feels a tightness in his gut, this was  _ wrong _ .

He stood there for a few minutes, studying every inch of that room. From the gentle lilac of the walls to the white sheets and purple bedspread. From the single doll to the large bookshelf. From the canopy that loomed over her bed to the scattered paintings and scrapbooks. The room that should have screamed happiness that simply looked depressing. 

The room that was empty since the doctor recommended sending Snow to the normal school with the other children. When Poppy and Branch told her last night, he had never seen someone look so frightened and he saw  _ Creek  _ almost get swallowed whole. She had run off and locked herself in her room. He found her last night, packing her little backpack with as many of her books as she could. Branch had entered quietly and asked her what she was doing.

* * *

 

_ “I’m leaving.” Snow whispers, shoving her favorite scrapbook into the mess of books. _

_ “Why?” Branch kneeled beside her. _

_ “Because you and mommy don’t want me anymore,” Snow reached up and wiped her tears away with the back of her hand, her breath catching in her throat as she begins to hiccup. _

_ Branch reaches over and brushes her long bangs from her eyes. “What do you mean? Of course, we want you.” He moves the backpack away from between them, pulling her onto his lap. He leans against her bed, and she nuzzles into the crook of his neck, soaking his skin with her tears and snot. "You are the most precious thing in our lives. You're our everything." More sniffling and the attempts of catching breath was his only reply. Branch twines his hand into her hair as his voice lifts into the air between them. _

_ “ _ If I had a pair of wings, I’d pick you up and fly you far away from here. _ ” Branch’s gentle voice is almost lost if she had not been right there. _

_ “ _ And you’d put your worries upon my shoulders, my dear, _ ” His hand strokes her hair gently. “ _ Now I know I can’t save you, from the troubles of the world. _ ” _

_ “And this sounds like such a silly thing.” Snow sing-songs, although it was breathy and almost just a whisper. _

_ “ _ But if I could I’d fly you away, _ ” Branch moves her, so they look each other eye-to-eye.--” _ on a big old pair of wings. _ ” _

_ “Daddy?” Snow whispers. “I’m sorry.” she hugs him again. “Please don’t tell mommy that I wanted to run away. Please, please.” She begs, clinging to her father for dear life. “Please, I don’t want her to hate me! Please!” Branch places a hand on her back, holding her tightly. _

_ “Snow, why don’t you want to tell your mom?” _

_ “Because she’s so happy, and she’s bright and pink! And-and-and-” The hiccuping started again. “And she doesn’t understand.” Snow shakes her head, taking a very deep breath. “I just don’t want her to leave me.” Snow looks at Branch. “You won’t leave me, right daddy?” _

_ “Never.” Branch whispers, kissing her forehead. “Now, let’s tuck you back in. You have to be up early.” _

_ “Okay,” Snow whispers as she climbs back into bed. Closing her tired, tired eyes. She was out in moments, and Branch sat there, looking down at his daughter. He couldn’t keep this a secret forever. _

_ Of course, he  _ could. _ He was Branch, and he had been married to Poppy for nine years, and she still had not found his stash of old invitations. He had been married to Poppy for nine years, and she still did not know he had left her secret admirer notes every day for four months when she was thirteen. Branch was a colorful, happy Troll; but he was still cautious, and still kept his secrets better than  _ Creek  _ ever could. Not that it mattered now. _

_ Right now, he was too focused on his daughter, and the fact that he noticed every little thing but Poppy hadn’t seen her cry once in her life. He hated it. _

* * *

 

Poppy took his hand in hers as she approaches. “Hey,” She says quietly. “I know. It’s weird but we have to do what’s best for her. Right?” She asks, slowly wrapping his arm around her shoulders. He removes it. Poppy feels her whole body tense up, and her eyes widen at the lack of contact.

“Do you think this is  _ right _ ?” He asks, folding his arms over his chest self-consciously. “I mean, you were fine with me when  **I** was gray and **I** was a jerk.” Branch looks across the lilac room, eyes landing on the small troll doll that was his daughter’s favorite. 

“Snow is--” He walks across the room and picks up the doll. “Snow is sweet,” he brushes the doll’s hair from its face, placing it on the pillow. “She’s shy, sure. And yeah, she’s kinda sad and she’s gray but that’s who she is. That’s who she’s always been.” Branch tears his eyes away from the doll to look at Poppy.

 

“Shouldn’t we try to love and accept her as she is? Gray or not?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: pair of wings by Justin Timberlake
> 
> And let me just warn you: Things go downhill from here.


	4. Namaste Snow, it's a pleasure to meet you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A whiteout turns much more dangerous when it's not just snow in the woods.

Painful days turned into agonizing weeks which became excruciating months. Branch and Poppy fought much more than they expected. Both wanted Snow to be happy, but Branch was so uncertain about everything, and Poppy was willing to take the doctor’s words to heart. They both were right. They were both wrong.

It didn’t matter by the time Snow’s birthday rolled around; the arguments quieted but never stopped all while hushed voices and whispered plans began to circulate the village.

_ ‘Princess Snow would be nine, Princess Snow was going to have the largest party yet! Princess Snow has been asking for a cuddle pup! No, for a bellow bug- No! For a Tickle Track!’  _

Snow heard them all, she knew what they were talking about. She grabs her father’s hoodie (the one he used for the gifter. She knew. She has always known), and tugs it over her head. Twisting her body a few times and struggling her way into the fabric- the large garment swallowing her up like a cliff monster. Pulling her hair up into a ponytail- her bangs still covering her left eye. She grabs her dark green backpack and heads to the back entrance of the bunker. 

She was tired, she was sad, and not just sad. No, Snow was depressed. Her family seemed to be ripping apart at the seams all because of her. So, Snow did the only thing she could think to do. She rationalized this with something she learned in school: 1+1=2; and Snow did not fit into the math problem. 

If anything, she  **_was_ ** the problem. 

So, off she goes in the dead of night-heaving her little feet up the staircase and into the frigid air. Winter had come early once again. 

Once her bare feet made contact with the light snow, she nodded to herself and set off for the woods. Her voice lifted into the quiet nighttime air, as she sang quietly to herself, trying to keep her focus on the song rather than the cold.

_ “Dance around  _

_ A little flame  _

_ Candles burn out your name _

_ Empty chair _

_ Stands so bold _

_ You’re not here anymore” _

 

Holding onto her backpack straps; she looks around the woods. Unsure what she would find, or where she would go but she knew that turning around was not an option. 

_ “I live my life from lie to lie _

_ And I'm a train wreck on the inside; _ ” If she turned around, that meant she failed the one thing she wanted to do: make her parents smile. 

_ “I wish I could be but I think I am _

_ Over you and up again  _

_ I live in pieces” _

 

_ “Everyday makes a hole in it _

_ Tears away at my tired soul _

_ I don't sleep--I can't sleep without you _

_ And I can't cry--I'm always crying. _

_ Empty house; full glass of wine” _

 

A light flurry began to swirl in the air- sweeping over and covering any trail the Little Troll left behind. Her eyelashes froze, her toes turned blue, and her fingers were freezing too. Her eyes began to sting as she continued ongoing- trying to not let them freeze as well. Her dark gray eyes caught the small beacon of light coming from a cave.

_ “I live my life from lie to lie _

_ And I'm a train wreck on the inside _

_ I wish I could be but I think I am _

_ Over you and up again  _

_ I live in pieces” _ Like a month to a lantern, her feet dragged on, desperate for warmth, desperate for comfort. Her tiny voice kept on going, keeping her awake and moving.

_ “Dance around a little flame _

_ Candles burn out your name” _

Blue toes, bare feet, blizzard winds all finally reached the cave. Inside of which, was a small fire made from kindling and stone. Feeding the flame was a troll that looked only a few years older than her father. He had shaggy blue-green hair that hung to one side and seemed to have been used for protection more than once. His skin was purple and covered in bruises and cuts, and dirt as if he had never taken a shower. 

“H-he-hello?” Snow manages to push past her trembling lips, and the Troll’s attention is quickly caught. He jumps to his feet and grabs his own tattered blanket. 

“You poor girl,” his accent was clear and it sounded so close to Uncle Biggie that Snow relaxed (the warmth of the blanket helped too). “Don’t worry, I’ve got you. Come sit by the fire. I’ll make you some tea.” He sets her down near the flame, eyes glancing at her constantly to make sure she didn’t get too close. “What are you doing out here by yourself? Where are your parents?” 

Snow stares into the fire and ignores the dripping of the melting ice from her hair. 

“I’m Snow Cloud.” She ignores his questions, instead of looking at the stranger with a curious sparkle in her frozen eyes. “And you are?”

The older troll laughs softly as he hands her a steaming cup of tea before sitting opposite her. “If you get to ignore my questions, I can ignore yours.” Snow glares at that response, before nodding to herself.

“Okay, I’m going to call you--” Snow looks him over before a smirk comes to her face. “Nama.”

“Nama?” The troll repeats, “What?”

“Nama, as in Namaste.” She nods, “You look like Miss Cybil and she says Namaste a lot. So it fits, I think.” 

The other troll looks slightly uncomfortable by the name but nods in agreement. “Very well, feel free to call me that.” He watches as the little girl sips her tea, actually taking in the thawing form. “So,” he leans forward, his gaze illuminated by the flames. “I can’t help but notice your unusual colors.”

“I’m gray.” Snow replies, uncaring and tired. “I was born like this; it's not a big deal.” The stranger-Nama- is unreadable, his face blank and void of emotion. 

“Is that so?” He leans away again and chuckles softly. “Is it safe to assume you left because of that, little troll?”

“Does it matter?”

“I have a feeling your parents-”A flinch. “--miss you.”

“They’re better off without a gray kid.” Snow folds her arms over her knees.

“Oh, you’re probably right.” He shrugs, and leans on his left palm, one knee propped up, and the other tucked under him.  “I mean, who would want a gray kid from birth? What type of terrible fate is that?” Nama closed his eyes as he thought; “Those poor parents who had to suffer through the crying, the fighting, the overall sadness. Your poor, sad, sad, parents who won’t even notice that you’re gone.” 

The words cut into Snow’s heart, but not for the reason you think. No, in fact, the words from the stranger were comforting, in a sense.

“They won’t worry about the birthday parties they’ll never throw, they won’t have to suffer through not getting hugs or presents. They don’t have a kid, their only kid, to worry about.” Nama looked over at the girl, whose head was down, eyes misting over. He needed just one more final blow and the waves would spill.

“Never again will they have to worry about using their love for you, their missing gray daughter.” The tears spilled over, and suddenly Snow was sobbing. Nama stood up, and sat down next to her, wrapping the blanket tighter around her shoulders. “Now,” He whispers, rubbing small circles on her back. “How about when the snow storm stops, I take you back home? Okay?” he whispers, using a free hand to toss extra wood onto the fire. “Your parents must be worried sick, and they’ll probably be out looking for you.”

“I don’t know,” Snow whispers, leaning against the other. “Mommy and daddy will be mad at me,” she says quietly, all her facade of strength leaving as soon as she started to sob.

“Alright,” Nama nods, “Maybe they will be mad. Just a little, but I think they’ll get over it once they see you’re alright.” Nama smiles. “Now, how about answering my questions, hm?”

A little bit of stammering, and hiccuping as she tries to calm down before she finally answers. “What were they again?”

“What are you doing out here by yourself?” Nama first asks, still trying to soothe the girl. Slowly through her hiccups, Snow explains what had been happening from her point of view.

“Mommy took me to the doctor, and afterward Mommy and Daddy said I have to go to school, and-” 

* * *

 

“They fight every night, and they don’t think I can hear them ‘cause they whisper in the kitchen but I do!”

* * *

 

Hours passed with Snow telling Nama everything that had happened in the time leading up to her running away. She had begun to pass out near the end and ended up falling asleep on his lap. He looked down at her, gently stroking her hair, and allowing her to sleep off the winter storm. It would be an hour until sunrise, and from there, he would simply wait for Snow to wake up. She was small, and it would be hard to find his way back to the troll village now without her. It would be even harder to find her parents and explain what happened without repercussions if she was asleep. So, he would wait.

* * *

 

Snow woke up just a few hours later as the sun touched her cheek, letting out a loud yawn she sat up. Looking around, she grinned.

“Mornin’ Nama!” She nods, “Ready to go out?” She slings her small bag over her shoulders, struggling to stand with it on. Nama pushes his hand onto her back; steadying her, and standing himself.

“Not quite yet.” He says, grabbing his blanket and ripping it into pieces. He bends down in front of her, using the strips to wrap up her feet. “There, now you won’t get so cold.” He nods, standing and smiling, “Let’s get you home.” Snow smiles up at him as the two of them began to walk.

The snow began to fall again, and Snow couldn’t help but giggle. Somewhere along the trip, Nama had placed her on his shoulders. She reached up and grabbed snowflakes, continuing to try and show them to him; saying how beautiful and unique they were.

“Kinda like you.”

“Yeah, kinda like me.”

“Think you can find a gray one?”

“I bet I can!”

“I bet you can too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: Pieces by Kacey Musgraves 
> 
> Also; I hope you all like this update >:)


	5. Resurged into the Garden of Eden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the abrupt entrance of an unwelcomed guest, Branch and Poppy have a hard decision to make--  
> But with the outspoken words of another-will they even have to make it?

Snow giggles as she catches snowflakes and Nama couldn’t help but laugh too. They stopped near a frozen lake, Nama told Snow to sit, before carefully making his way out onto the ice. He smiles, and motions for her to come on. The ice was thick enough to support his weight, and therefore she would be perfectly fine.  

> _ He didn't have to wake up _
> 
> _ He'd been up all night _
> 
> _ Laying there in bed listening _
> 
> _ To his newborn baby cry _

As Snow fell into a small routine, laughing and giggling, Nama sat down on the shore and smiled as he watched her. Before looking down at his own reflection. And there he came face to face with reality. 

> _ He makes a pot of coffee _
> 
> _ He splashes water on his face _
> 
> _ His wife gives him a kiss and says _
> 
> _ It gonna be OK _

He would admit that he was not a good troll. He was a coward and had betrayed his people. Did he feel bad? 

No, not really. But if given the chance to go back and shut his mouth- would he? 

No, dear goodness, no. So, what would he do? 

Easy, Creek would apologize. No, he didn’t feel bad about speaking up and saving his skin. But he did feel bad about putting people’s lives in danger. Well, okay not really. He felt bad for the children. 

No troll, nor Bergen, nor monster could allow a child to be killed. 

Okay, that was a lie too. 

Creek didn’t feel bad about any of it. He was fine with his choices and fine with himself. But he was indeed lonely. He was starving, cold, and so bitterly lonely. Then, out of nowhere comes this small gray child- clinging to him as if he was the sun itself. A small beam of pride found its way into his ego. 

> _ It won't be like this for long _
> 
> _ One day soon we'll look back laughin' _
> 
> _ At the week we brought her home _

Watching the small child laugh, and try to get him to skate managed too- well. It made him smile. It made him feel less lonely. 

It was nice. 

She made him want to, well, to apologize. He didn’t want to let her go. 

> _ This phase is gonna fly by _
> 
> _ So baby just hold on _
> 
> _ It won’t be like this for long _

She might be the only troll in the world to accept him. So, he took it while he could. Snow slid over to him, and grabbed his arm, trying desperately to pull him up. He laughs and slowly stands, helping her skate along the lake edge. The two of them skated for a little bit before continuing on. 

> _ One day soon that little girl is gonna be _
> 
> _ All grown up and gone _
> 
> _ Yeah this phase is gonna fly by _
> 
> _ He's trying to hold on _
> 
> _ It won't be like this for long _
> 
> _ It won't be like this for long _

 

Within the time she had been wandering, she had gotten almost all the way to Bergen town— and now Creek had to walk her all the way back. Not that he minded so much. Perhaps this was a second chance. Perhaps this was what he had been searching for. Perhaps Snow was his repentance for what he had done.

Little did he know, there was still plenty of hell to pay.

 

* * *

 

“I can’t find any trails.” Branch groans, looking over to Poppy. “Find anything?” He calls.

“No!” Poppy runs over to him, throwing her arms around his neck. “Branch, what if we don’t find her? She’s been gone for an entire day! What if I’m the reason she left? What if-” A kiss was placed on her nose.

“We’ll find her,” Branch says, looking down at his wife, his queen, his best friend, his everything. “I promise, Poppy, I will not rest until we find her.”

The two hold each other for a moment longer, before pulling away and getting to work trying to search.

They meet up a few hours after noon, back in the village square. They were going to gather a search party. 

“Thank you all for coming today,” Poppy says, small tears in her eyes. “I know I promised a party today for the Princess’ birthday but--”

Former King Peppy had already addressed the crowd all this morning with the news of the missing princess. They were all well aware of the circumstances, but that didn’t stop the mild panic that took over as the Queen spoke; her voice giving out for a moment as she hesitated.

“Mommy!” The silence was broken from a voice towards the back of the gathered crowd-The King and Queen both froze and looked towards the voice. 

“Daddy!” Snow called, picking lifted by purple hands, and set on someone’s shoulders. The small, gray, snow-dusted child waved to them. Branch and Poppy both took off at a sprint, the crowd parting like the red sea to let the worried parents through. The crowd separated and looked. Everyone’s lungs seemed to collapse at the scene. 

 

_ To Snow it looked like this; The young princess sat on a shoulder of her new friend, arms around his hair to keep her up. They both looked worn and tired but excited to be home. Covered in snow, and stomachs growling the two seemed to truly be returning from a long journey and Snow was excited to see her parents.  _

 

**To everyone else, the scene went like so : Creek stood, holding the young, defenseless princess captive. She clung to his hair for safety, hoping for her parents to help. They were covered in snow, and their stomachs growled. Of course the traitor didn’t feed his prisoner, and of course, he made her wall so far in the snow. No wonder why Snow had gone missing! He had taken her! **

 

Creek lifted the gray troll off his shoulders and set her down. She grinned at him, and he waved her off. Snow instantly took running and launched herself into Poppy and Branch’s arms. “Mommy! Daddy!” She cries, clinging to them. “I’m so sorry I ran away! I won’t do it again! I promise I promise!” She urges, grabbing their hands. Branch’s eyes were elsewhere. Poppy was paying full attention to their daughter, checking her for any damage. Branch was glaring at Creek, he pushed his family behind him and stood tall. 

“What are you doing here?” He growls. 

“Daddy,” Snow steps forward, placing a hand on Branch’s forearm. “That’s Nama. He’s my friend.” She beams, walking back over to Creek. She places her hand in his and smiles up at him. “He taught me how to Ice Skate. And he made me tea and gave me a blanket during the storm. He even helped me get home!” She turns to her father, who still looked like he was about to punch something. “Daddy? Why are you mad? Aren’t you-“ she swallows, taking a step back and into Creek. “Aren’t you happy I’m home?” She looks between her mom and her dad. 

Branch’s face breaks along with his heart. His anger disappeared right away. “What?” He whispers, getting down on his knees. Four steps from his daughter but feeling forever away. “Of course, I’ve been worried sick.” He whispers. 

“We both have,” Poppy adds, kneeling beside him. Snow swallows and runs back into their arms. The two of them clutching their little daughter. Poppy placing her flower crown on her head, and kissing her forehead. 

Creek took a small step forward, “if I may-“ he holds up his hands. “Snow Cloud here told me a few things that you two might want to hear-“ he hesitates. “In private.”

The parents look at each other. They couldn’t possibly trust him- right? But as they look at Snow, who ends up pulling a flower off her flower crown, and gestures for Creek to bend down. Willingly, he does so. She places it behind his ear and beams. 

Well, Snow trusted him. That much was clear. The two nod to each other. 

Poppy walks towards him and smiles a bit. “Please, come with me. We will discuss this at my home.” She nods, and motions for her father to take over and the small family and Creek head to the bunker. 

“Snow, go put your stuff away, Miss Iris missed you,” Poppy kisses the girls forehead, sending her away. The three adults sat at a table: Branch and Poppy on one side and Creek on the other. 

“Before you say anything,” Creek holds up one hand. “I must say, I am not apologizing for what I did.” He notices the two tense up, but continues, “but I am enthralled by your daughter. I wanted nothing more than to get her home safely.” Creek nods, “I have done plenty of suffering for what I did. It was not easy, and I have almost died plenty of times.” Creek shakes his head. “I am not looking for acceptance or even understanding. I want nothing but for Snow to be safe. And now that she is, I am willing to leave the Troll village once again.” 

The parents were shocked, to say the least, it was obvious that Creek was telling the truth. After all, lying was not in his nature. Manipulation and betrayal might be. But not lying. Before either could say anything, Snow comes barreling into the room and grabbed Creek’s arm. 

“Nama! I got something to show you.” She beams. “Remember the scrapbook I told you about? The one I made without using any glue?” Creek smiles and pats her on the head, his fingers brushing through her hair. 

“Yes, Of course. How could I forget?” He nods, “But I’m afraid I’m going to be leaving soon and I will not be coming back.” He says, and Snow looks at him. Poppy notices the small light in her daughter's eyes fade. The cold, death-like trance returning. 

“Oh.” Snow says softly, letting go of him and taking a step back. “Okay.” 

Poppy and Branch made eye contact. Of course, the first troll to befriend their daughter was Creek. They couldn’t take away her only friend, could they? But they couldn’t possibly keep Creek around, could they? 

The questions circled their head, and a very frail but commanding voice is the next to speak. 

“Nonsense.” 

“Dad?” Poppy turns around and lays eyes on her father. Peppy hobbles in and Branch mutters something about regretting the removal of alarm systems. Peppy places a hand on Branch’s shoulder.

“It’s alright my boy, I had a key anyhow.” Peppy snickers, and looks to Creek.

“Now then, you.” He jabs his cane at the other, who in turn flinches. “34 years ago, I saved your life from the bergens.” Peppy takes a step towards him. “Only to have you betray me and my family in the worst way.” He takes a deep breath and looks to Snow. “But you’re the first one to make her smile that’s not her parents.” Snow was currently hiding behind Creek’s chair, avoiding the gaze of her grandfather. “Therefore, I’m offering you a second chance.”

Creek’s brow furrows as he comprehends what was just said.

“What?” Came the reply from Creek, Poppy, and Branch. 

“I was king before any of you were born,” Peppy grins. “I’m old, therefore I do what I want.” He winks at poppy before turning back to Creek. “And I’m giving you a second chance. To learn from your mistakes.” Peppy places a hand on the other’s shoulder, squeezing so hard one would expect it to pop out of socket. “But I swear, if you screw any one of my family over again, Creek, I will-”

“I will suffocate you while you sleep, and eat your eyes myself.” Snow speaks up suddenly, having had moved from her hiding spot to stand beside Branch and Poppy. Holding a scrapbook open, on the page that read ‘I’m selling you out.’ Snow tosses in on the ground and walks over to Creek, crossing her arms. Creek looks down at her, and fear flashes in his eyes as everyone sees the girl turn a shade of darker gray. He swallows, and crouches down, looking at the girl.

“I’ve been gone a long time,” he says softly, and gives her a gentle smile, and goes to stroke her hair as he had been doing for the last day or so--but she flinches away, smacking his wrist. 

“No.” Snow whispers, looking down. “I don’t want Creek.” The small troll was trembling and clutching the hem of her dress. “I want my Nama.” Tears fall and touch the ground, splattering and wetting the carpet. Creek was frozen, for the first time he didn’t know what to do. After all, normally, all it took was a small sentence and a bit of charm and trolls were fawning over his words and ate up every stupid suggestion. But this young troll certainly took after her father and refused to see the melody that his words invoked, and they both did not want anything to do with his yoga or therapy. No, Branch, once upon a time, had called Creek out and had told him to cut his shit. Now, so many years later, here he was being told the same thing by Branch’s child. Creek swallowed and stood again. He turned and looked to Peppy, giving him a curt nod.

“I’ll take that second chance.” He whispers, swallowing his entire ego in one gulp. “But on one condition.”

“And that is?” Peppy raises an eyebrow, the purple eyes trail down to Snow.

 

“I don’t want to be Creek anymore.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: It Won't Be Like This for Long by Darius Rucker
> 
> Hope y'all like this chapter!


	6. Sparkling Soliciting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snow holds her checklist, ready for the day. A plan to visit each member of the snack pack that digs into the internal struggle of a certain troll

“Are you sure about this?” Namaste laughs softly, being dragged by Snow.

“Yes! There is no one better than Satin and Chenille.” She was determined, that much was true. People gave him glares, scowls, and other looks of resentment. He was uncomfortable, he was uncertain, but the small tug on his hand reminded him why he was even bothering with these idiots. 

Snow Cloud. The little girl who hated herself so much, he was certain she would have jumped down a bergen’s throat given the chance. He swallowed his pride and allowed himself to be dragged, ignoring the looks he received.

Snow throws open the door to the fashion boutique of Satin and Chenille. “Good Morning!” She chimes out, the two girls turn and smile.

“Snow!” They say in unison, it was not often the princess visited. And as the came towards her, they see why she was visiting that day. 

“Snow, why is  _ that _ here?” Chenille spoke up,

“ _ That _ is not allowed in our shop.” Satin makes a ‘hmf’ type of noise that had Snow rolling her eyes. She also felt Namaste stiffen in worry, and she smiles back at him.

“Nama is my friend,” She says, looking at him, before turning back to the other two. “And he needs some new clothes. I couldn’t ask anyone else in the village but you two, because you’re the best at fashion designing!” Snow praises and the two consider it. 

“Oh very well.” Satin speaks, “but only-”

“Because we love you, Snow.” Chenille winks at the girl, the two quickly taking a few measurements, before going ahead and beginning to sew. Proud of her first accomplishment, she grabs Namaste’s hand, dragging him out of there and onwards. 

“Okay, okay.” He laughs, keeping up with her this time. “That was clever, now where are we going?”

“Thank you, and to see Uncle Biggie,” She shrugs, “He has hair dye, and is really good at using it. Then we’ll go see Aunt Smidge, and ask her to help us put up a pod for you.” Snow says, reading off a piece of paper her dad had written out for her. “Then to Guy Diamond, because he’ll be able to help us decorate the pod-”

“Wait, wait.” Namaste lifts her up by the arm he was holding. “Guy Diamond?” He questions. “We are not going to see him.” 

Snow raises an eyebrow, “Why not?” She asks as he sets her back down. “I mean yeah,” Her ears flatten a bit, and he can’t help the amused smile that comes to his lips. “He’s a little too bright, and a little annoying, and--”

“Snow, snow-” He tries to interrupt the girl as she listed off the things she didn’t like about most trolls. “Sugar Plum,” He says a bit more urgently, which gets her to stop. Her head tilts and she raises an eyebrow.

“Sugar Plum?” she repeats.

“Yes, It’s a nickname.” Namaste shrugs, “you call me Nama, it only seems fair.” Snow giggles at that and nods. 

“Okay, but ah!” She suddenly remembers the point of the conversation. “Why don’t you want to see Guy Diamond?”

“Before everything happened,” He rubs the back of his neck. “Guy Diamond and I were very much like your parents, but we never actually ended things.” Snow’s brow furrows as she thinks that over.

“Then we should go see him first!” She chimes, grabbing his hand again, the shock of the statement allowed Namaste to be tugged along a few feet. 

“Snow, No, Snow.” He tries to argue with the young child but realizes how pointless it is. “We have to follow the list, remember?”

“Oh.” She stops, looking down at the list. At least it was a momentary setback. “Uncle Biggie!” She chimes out, turning to head in a different direction. There was only so much bargaining with a ten-year-old, especially a ten-year-old that was immune to any types of charm. That was a lesson that Namaste was learning quickly. 

They approach the home of the large troll, and Snow knocks happily. The door opens only to be shut almost instantly. 

“Go away!” The voice calls. “No ones home! Please leave, Creek!” Snow rolls her eyes. 

“Uncle Biggie! It’s me!” Snow exclaims, trying to deter him from locking the door. “I need your help!” The door creaks open slowly. 

“What is it, Snow?” 

“My friend Nama needs to dye his hair! And I don’t know how.” Biggie looks from her to Namaste, before sighing. 

“Snow, you know that his name is-“

“Namaste. Yes. He’s my friend.” She states matter of factually. She stood her ground and certainly did better than Namaste could ever do. He smirked to himself, she took after her parents well. Namaste was honestly surprised by the girl, and couldn’t help but continue to be shocked by her actions. She was still a child, but between her gray exterior and her stubborn demeanor, she seemed much older than she was. “Now, about the hair dye.” She beams up at Biggie. 

“Oh, well, alright.” Biggie allows them in. The light laughter of a child echoing into their ears. “Midst is playing with Mr. Dinkles Jr, in the other room.” He motions for Snow, who takes off down the hall. Leaving Namaste alone with Biggie, he swallows and holds out a hand.

“I have been granted a second chance, and therefore I’m taking this time to reinvent myself.” He sighs, looking at the ground. “Well, I’m trying to be the Troll that you all thought I was, as well as the Troll that Snow wants me to be.”

Snow peaks her head back in the room for a moment, and gives him a thumbs up, before being dragged back into the playroom by Midst. A small smile comes to Namaste’s lips.

“So,” Biggie clears his throat, looking away. “Is this your way of apologizing, because it isn’t much of one.” He says, his foot digging into the ground. 

“I’m not apologizing,” He says unemotionally, avoiding eye contact. “I don’t care if you all accept me back or not. I’m not doing this for me,” He looks away. “Way back, I had the chance to Help Branch with his grayness. But instead I made fun of him,” Namaste sits on the couch, and Biggie sits beside him. “I told him that if he was going to be gray, and so sad, he should just leave. Cybil never asked me why Branch left our home, but I was just simply jealous.” He explains, unsure why he was telling Biggie this. “Looking at Snow now, I see something that Branch never had. She is gray. But she’s  _ happy.”  _

“I understand,” Biggie nods. “You think by helping Snow, you can redeem yourself?” 

“Not exactly. She has my interest piqued. And I’m not sure if it’s for selfish reasons or because I think I can help  _ her _ .” He looks at Biggie, expecting him to have the answer to his internal torment. 

“Well,” Biggie places a hand on his chin as he thinks. “I believe that answer can only be found with time. But you’re going to have to work towards the answer you want.” Biggie looks at him. “Now, do you want it to be for selfish reasons or because you want to help Snow?” 

The silence that followed was deafening. It consumed his mind, and his entire being. It took his mind over, and it made his heart race. 

“While you mull that tidbit over!” Biggie suddenly stands, the shift in weight making Namaste hold onto the couch. “I believe you came here for hair dye, yes?” He asks, smiling. 

“Huh?” Namaste looks up, nodding. “Oh, yeah. Hair dye.” He swallows. “I don’t want to look like Creek anymore. I want to be Namaste.” He folds his hands over each other and looks at the large troll. “Snow said I’d look good with maroon and orange.” He chuckles, and Biggie nods. 

“Alright, let’s get to work.” 

* * *

 

“Branch,” Poppy looks at her husband across the table, the two were awkward. It was like when they first made peace with the Bergens all over again. “Are we sure this is a good idea?”

“You heard what he said,” He runs his hands over his cheeks, “He had no reason to lie. Why would he tell us all of that?”

“I-” Poppy looks down at the table, sorrow filling her features. “Does she really-”

“I have to tell you something.” Branch suddenly snaps, looking at her. He almost flinches back and looks away. “I have to tell you something,” He repeats in a much weaker voice. “I’m sorry, I should have told you when it first started happening, but I didn’t know how. And I understood why Snow didn’t want to tell you, and-” A finger touches his lips, Poppy looking at him like he was the only thing in the world.

“Branch, whatever it is, I know you had a good reason for keeping it from me.” She swallows. “Even if it’s hard for me to accept, I know you, and I know Snow, you two would only keep something from me because you thought it was right.” The two look at each other, and Branch nods slowly. The words spill from his throat, he tells poppy about all the little things that she had never witnessed. He tells her, avoiding her gaze, and trying not to sob himself. 

By the end of it, the distance between the two is long, draining, and treacherous. Yet, Poppy’s hand still finds him, and sapphire eyes finally meet rose. 

“You were right,” she whispers. “I don’t understand. I don’t know what it’s like to be gray, I don’t know what it’s like to wake up and just wish that you weren’t born. I don’t understand that.” She swallows. “But I do know how to hold someone, and how to love them, and let them know I care.” She pulls branch forward, so he’s leaning on the table. “I’m glad you told me, now, and not earlier. I don’t think I would have seen it as the same issue I do now.” The two rest their foreheads together. 

“I love you, Poppy.” branch whispers. 

“And I love you, Branch.” She kisses his nose. 

“Now, may I throw away that damn book?” 

“Yes. A hundred times. Yes.” 

* * *

 

“Okay,” Snow holds up the list, sticking her tongue out the corner of her mouth. Biggie helped dye Namaste’s hair, and Smidge had agreed to help move pods to make room for the new one. Now, they had only a few stops more. And this time it was to see Guy Diamond. 

“Sugar plum, are you sure we have too?” 

“You need decorations. Mommy says no one can live without decorations!” Snow grabs his hand, coming to a full stop. “And I like you living. So we need decorations!” Namaste laughs, looking down at the small girl. A ten-year-olds logic. She understood sarcasm so well, but hyperboles still went over her head. 

“Very well, but-“ 

“Let's go!” She interrupts, not letting him get a word in edgewise. Approaching the mildly large pod, which sparked more than most, Namaste felt his heartbeat quicken. But not for the reason he expected. 

No, in fact, his heart seemed to be reacting to the fact that the young girl was shielding her eyes from the intensity of the sparkles, and had small tears forming in the corners of them. His heart sped with concern and panic. He didn’t know what to do if a child cried! Why did he think this was a good idea? What part of him thought that this would ever be-

“Hi!” Snow exclaims, And Namaste blinks. Somehow they had reached the door, which had already been opened. 

The young boy that stood there was certainly not Guy Diamond. He was not covered in glitter, he wore clothes, and he had a jewel on his stomach. 

“Is Guy Diamond here?” She tilts her head and the boy swallows roughly. His face heating up as he nods. 

“Dad’s home,” He says, opening the door wider. “Come in, Princess.” 

“My name’s Snow.” She shrugs as the two walk in. Namaste smiles at the boy, and the pale green eyes and purple skin that stare back at him make his throat dry, and lungs empty. He looked like a blend of guy Diamond and-

A dish drops. 

“Brook,” Guy says suddenly, “take the princess to your room. I’m sure she’d love to see your books.” Brook knew the tone his father took, it was calm. Too calm. He grabbed the princess’ hand, his face turning a deep maroon as he dragged her along. Her own face reflecting confusion, fear, and curiosity. 

“Guy,” He begins. 

“No,” Guy takes a step forward. “What are you doing here, Creek? You can’t just expect us to forgive you for-“ 

“Shut up will you?” Namaste swallows his voice as soon as it leaves his lips. He takes a deep breath. “I will not apologize for anything I did. It was cowardly, selfish, and downright wrong. But I did it, and I would do it again.” He swallows. “The one thing I would change is that I would save you too.” Guy looks at the other with mild disgust but also longing. “I would make sure that you were safe in my arms. But it’s too late. I understand. I met Snow, and she said something to me that-“ 

They meet eyes. Namaste has to calm his breathing. Why was Guy about to cry? 

“That made me reflect on everything I’ve done. I’ve realized that I can’t change any of it. But I will be better from here on out. I will be the Troll you all thought I’d be, and I will be the Troll Snow wants me to be, and teaches me to be.” 

“Are you done?” Guy crosses his arms, looking at the other. Namaste nods, realizing his honest words fell on deaf ears. 

“Good,” Guy rolls his eyes. “You left me for dead, and go figure, I was planning on telling you as soon as we were saved.The tree created us a pod and a seed.” Guy shakes his head. “You have a son, his name is Brook. He’s an Oracle. Much better than you or Cybil.” Guy keeps his distance, his arms crossed. “He’s turning fourteen in a few months.” 

The world seemed to stop. To break. To crumble. And to reassemble. 

“So, I’m glad you’re learning,” Guy takes a step forward and tugs Namaste down to his level. “But you better not even think of letting me go again.” 

“Never,” Namaste whispers, hesitantly placing a small kiss on Guy’s forehead. 

“Good,” He lets go of the other. “Now then, I believe that between Snow, Brook, and I, you might actually turn out to be-“ he pauses. “You might be the Troll I fell in love with again, Creek” 

“I’m ready to try,” he admits, looking away. “But first thing is- I’m not Creek anymore. I’m Namaste, and Snow calls me Nama.” A dark purple hand runs through maroon and orange hair. “And I love that damn little troll more than anything and oh hair I want to help her get her colors. And there’s no reason for it, but she is my world now.” He rambles, small tears forming in his eyes as he tries to explain his current state of life. “And I would die for her. Yes; I- the traitor of all Trolls because he was too scared to die- would willingly jump into a Bergen’s mouth because that little girl doesn’t believe she’s worth anything more than a scrap of paper would do so without a reason. And I-“ He swallows as a tear rolls down his cheek. The final realization of his mental torment. “I love Snow Cloud, and I would do anything to make her smile because she deserves it. Not because I’ll get anything out of it.” Both trolls stand there, an arm's reach away. 

“I’m impressed,” Guy whispers. “I don’t know what she’s done to you, but yeah. You’ve changed already. A little.” He wraps his arms around Namaste’s waist. “And I’m starting to see a new troll. One I’m more than willing to fall in love with, Namaste.” Guy smiles up at him. “I hope one day you’ll love me that much.” 

“I think I will.” He swallows. “May I be a part of-“ 

“Brooks life? Yes. As long as you come back to live with me.” Guy nods, before taking a step back. “I think I’ll be able to keep a better eye on your progress that way.” 

“Alright.” He nods in return. “I-“ He swallows, and smiles to the other. “I think it’ll all work out. One day.” 

“Good.” Guy chuckles, his dazzling smile returning to his features, his voice raising back to its auto-tuned sing-song pitch. “Brook!” 

Two sets of feet come marching down the hall, one much quieter than the other. First comes Brook, his feet hitting the floor with a  _ thud  _ as he rushes in. Snow following, her own feet  _ tap _ ping the floor as she tries to take up as little space as possible. A book in her hands, and hopeful eyes piercing into Namaste. 

He smiles at the little girl and gives her a thumbs up. 

“What’s up?” Brook asks his arms behind his back. He was calm and had an aura of zen. Even more so than Namaste or his sister. 

“I have someone here for you to meet.” Guy holds out his hand to Brook, who steps forward. “This is your other father: Namaste.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No song this time!! Im sorry!!!! XD


End file.
